When You Win and You Don't Die
by whysosiriusumbridge
Summary: Post War fanfic. PM me for prompts, though they might not always fit in, so won't always be accepted. Many pairings, and constantly changing, including the snakes lot. Might transform into 8th year story later, but mainly follows Harry from immediately where we left in last chapter of Book 7. Canon, and non-epilogue compliant. Consider movies and Pottermore canon.
1. The One Right After You Win

**Post-War fic, will mostly update when I feel like it. All chapters might be according to timeline, or might not be. Can have prompt-based chapters if they fit into the plot - yes, there is one - or cannot. PM me for prompts. Also, going be a rather vast expanse of pairings, and might not be canon. Follows book upto before the Epilogue.**

 **Hope you enjoy.**

 **Chapter 1**

Gravel and dust, pieces of broken furniture and parts of the stone walls and ceiling were crunching under his feet as he walked towards his unknown destination. Ron and Hermione were doing it again; he could practically hear them exchange those glances behind his back.

He stopped abruptly, Hermione bumping into him and almost slipping on a stray piece of wood; Ron caught her by the arm and held her in place. An uncomfortable look passed between them and Ron hastily removed his hand. Well, there went that short flame he had witnessed. Harry pretended he hadn't noticed that small exchange and strained his ears for the voice which had originally made him stop.

A very quiet and distant moan sounded from somewhere ahead of them. The corridor they were standing in was clear but the noise seemed to have come from a classroom up ahead.

They exchanged a glance and moved towards the room quietly, wands held tightly and at the ready. The classroom was in a state of utter destruction – a part of the wall was blown up and most of the ceiling was in pieces on what remained of the floor.

It had to be the west side of the castle, for no sunlight streamed through the large gap, even though the Black Lake was visible from an angle. Another moan erupted from somewhere under the rubble, louder this time; the person seemed to have sensed their presence. Harry looked at the two of them in indecision – what if the person underneath turned out to be a death eater? He couldn't think of anything he would do, or not do, if it was one of them. Hermione took a deep breath and decided it for them, by walking forward at the edge of the rubble and starting to lift the larger pieces away.

The bright, fierce light feeling of victory was slowly fading away, giving in to something much darker than Harry could have imagined feeling. Every time he looked at Ron and Hermione though, the light hope and happiness flickered in his chest again.

It was easier to follow Hermione and not think, just do work. Underneath the largest broken piece of wood, a foot came into view. Within the next few minutes, they had the now unconscious form of Theodore Nott unearthed. Harry recognized the boy from the few times he had seen him at the Slytherin table, but his mind still felt blank. He felt no emotion for the boy. He didn't care it was a Slytherin. To him, it was someone who'd been hurt because of the War. Another side-effect of the Battle.

Ron looked uncertainly towards him but Harry had already made up his mind. He bent down to check Nott's pulse once, which was very weak, and then with Hermione's help, hoisted him in the air.

Nott was deposited in the Hospital Wing, which was made up in the room off the entrance hall in for the time being. Ron had stoically followed them, and Harry could sense that he did not approve. Harry was fussed over again by everyone, some congratulated him, clapped him on the back, while some kept their distance. Madam Pomfrey suddenly swooped in on him as he was watching Ron glaring at Nott's still form – she looked ready to curse him if he resisted, as she inspected him closely.

She hurriedly appointed Hannah as in charge, caught hold of Ron and Hermione and ushered the three of them to her office. The part of the Wing opposite to the office of the matron had been demolished too, but they didn't linger there much. "Now, tell me all about these injuries quickly, so that I can assign you potions and then get back to the hall. Come on." She bid them, hurriedly opening cupboards and taking out numerous bottles and vials. Harry felt Hermione and Ron look at him, unmoving, but he couldn't bring himself to look at them directly. Instead, he stared at the Matron's cluttered desktop, and slowly started removing his clothes.

They followed him, and soon they had shed almost all their clothing and exposed their burns, cuts and bruises. Madam Pomfrey stopped her movements suddenly, and gave a horrified gasp on seeing them. "What did you do? Walk through a _fire_?" she whispered in shock, and he distinctly felt Hermione look towards him. He remained silent. They followed his lead again.

After a few seconds of staring, Pomfrey snapped out of it, and started muttering furiously, and Harry spotted her wiping a few tears while getting out more vials. She poked and prodded them for about an hour, making a list of potions and liquids they needed, then found all she could provide them. Hermione quietly took initiative for helping her list the supplies she had, and promised that she would look for the rest and meet her later.

Madam Pomfrey left after assigning them five bottles each to drink now and giving some more instructions to Hermione. Harry gulped all five quickly, without taking many breaths in between, and felt Ron and Hermione exchange a panicked glance. _Great_ , now he could even sense their expressions. But he didn't care, he liked the way the potions burned down his throat, almost like firewhiskey, but for the bitter taste. It made him feel _something_ , instead of empty and hollow.

"So, Grimmauld Place?" Ron said tentatively, and Harry nodded silently, not looking up.

"I think we should get back up, just in case." Hermione said as they walked towards the Great Hall. He had already told them all about Snape's memories, so they knew it was a rare chance that anyone would be there, but he also remembered accidently apparating Yaxley on the doorstep.

As they entered the Hall, Harry spotted the Weasleys standing near a table, and a shiver went up his spine at the thought of facing them. His throat constricted suddenly and his heart felt like it was going to pound right out of his ears - his vision was blurring. He backed out of the Hall quickly, and steadied himself by a wall, breathing deeply, a hand on his chest. _Something was wrong_. Something was wrong with him. He was trembling like a leaf.

He faintly heard Ron and Hermione calling him, and then it was just Hermione - she had a hand on his shoulder, but he was still shaking. A glass of water was pushed into his hands, and he drank it sloppily, wetting his shirt, and taking deep, shuddering breaths. Hermione hand was still on his shoulder, and Ron was back, flagged by Neville and Luna on each side.

He couldn't see their expressions – he wasn't sure he wanted to, but pushed himself off the wall. He made to shrug off Hermione's hand, but she stared at him when he moved his shoulder, and pointedly gripped tighter, moving it almost to his neck.

He gulped, his heart was still hammering away in his head, and he could feel a headache coming. God, that one was overdue.

The place was still guarded by two cloaked Death Eaters, and they were quickly taken down. Neville and Luna volunteered to deposit the bodies at Hogwarts itself, where the main operations were being held from, what with the Ministry not being back on speed yet.

They had quietly entered the place, him hoping the neighbors hadn't seen the little show, to find it same as it had been when they had left. A few things in the drawing room had been upturned and the kitchen was also messed through, but nothing was missing or much out of place.

"One hour. Kitchen." Hermione had said quietly, and then retired to her and Ginny's room. That was two hours ago.

He had been in the bathroom, hands against tiles, staring at the draining water. At first it was murky red, then it had faded it to faint brown and now it was clear. He was feeling a little better after washing himself properly, feeling like he had washed away years of sweat, grime and memories in the process. He felt cleaner, and his head was a little clearer, even though his neck was now aching because of standing in the same position for the last half hour.

He would have to admit to himself that bathrooms often held life-changing experiences for him. He had entered today feeling empty, then he had mechanically washed himself after an hour of crying his eyes dry in the shower. While washing himself, his mind had slowly cleared, he was letting the Hermione section of his brain take over. He had compartmentalized- there were things he had to do, things he had not dared to think about all his life – for whenever he had thought about his future, he had seen nothing but the blank dark stretch of ending Voldemort. And now that he was gone, it was time to step into actual reality, time to leave this chapter of his life behind.

He felt guilty when he thought about it. It was guilt that threatened to rip him apart from the inside out if he let it, but he couldn't let that happen. A faint burning hope ignited in his chest again as he made his decision – they needed him now, more than anything. He would throw himself in the clean-up effort, personally visit people, donate, work, talk, give speeches, _do things_ and keep himself busy. He wouldn't have a breakdown, or shut down. No. He would work. And do something worthwhile with his life that so many people had died to protect. That he himself had died for.

"Harry?"

There was a knock on the door as Hermione's voice trembled slightly as she called him, knocking again when he didn't answer, hurriedly drying himself and pulling on clothes. He opened the door after a few silent seconds, to find Hermione's hand raised in the air again.

"Oh, sorry. Harry, we need to talk." She said, and her voice had the urgency he hadn't expected – his thoughts immediately turned to horrible things like something happening to Ron, or Ginny, or Voldemort being back.

"Harry, there are a few things we need to sort out between ourselves without telling the others." She began, and the panic subsided in Harry's chest – this he could handle, "I think you need to keep the Hocruxes safe, so that no one accidentally finds them, there are going to be speculations and rumors about what happened today and the Prophet's going to have a field day, not to mention the rest of the Wizarding World." She continued as she took a seat on Ron's bed, pulling out the beaded bag from the sock.

"Well, they're destroyed, aren't they? They can't do any harm now." He said, but Hermione shook her head, closing her eyes.

"No no, I mean yes, they're destroyed but they were filled with dark magic so they're going to leave traces. If someone discovers them, well…"

Harry didn't need Hermione to explain to him what would happen. Any witch or wizard might not understand but they could still be dangerous in the hands of the wrong person.

"The ring is in the Forest, and it needs to remain there. I have the locket right here-" Harry fumbled behind him on the bed for Hagrid's moleskin pouch, pulling out the ornate locket, and feeling it's weight in his hand. Even though no metal heart beat beneath it, he still felt an inexplicable urge to hurl the thing away from him, but dropped it back inside.

"The cup is with Ron, and the diadem?" Hermione asked, eyeing the chain in his hand, frowning.

"I don't know… can't remember, I think it's still on the seventh floor in the rubble somewhere. Death Eaters had just broken in when it shattered in my hands – I don't remember picking it up." He said, wracking his brains to remember the moment right before Fred had – when Fred had…

"Okay, and the diary?" Hermione interrupted, voice trembling slightly, he suspected she too must have remembered.

"I gave it to Lucius Malfoy right after we got back from the Chamber. He'd come to visit Dumbledore with Dobby." He said, throat constricting at the mention of the loving house-elf, and his eyes burning slightly.

"Where's Kreacher?" he asked Hermione, who hadn't spoken but seemed to be taking deep breaths to calm herself. She looked like she was about to cry too.

"He's…" she began, then cleared her throat, blinking rapidly, "He's prepared some food – Ron, Neville and Luna just finished eating."

"And you?" Harry asked, noticing she'd omitted herself deliberately, and as he watched, she began to shake slightly.

"I've had to take care of something else." She said quietly, voice trembling, looking at him with a scared look. Harry found himself panicking again – something else had happened, hadn't it? Someone else was…

He stared at Hermione in silence as her breathing quickened again and her eyes filled with tears. Neither spoke a word for a minute, but Harry was waiting for the news – he didn't think he could handle anyone else –

"It's the dagger. Her dagger. I don't know what to do with it." Hermione blurted out, looking like she'd done so with great difficulty, breaking into sobs as soon as she finished. Harry blinked at her, surprised, but moved to her side quickly as she collapsed into him, mumbling noisily.

"She killed Dobby with it – I – I don't want to keep it but I can't get r-rid of it either." She sobbed hysterically into his shoulder for a minute, while Harry tried to rub her back soothingly. He was still bewildered about what was happening, but he couldn't make sense of what Hermione was saying right then.

"What are you saying, Hermione? You can't get rid of it, why?" he asked, and she sat up again, wiping at her eyes frantically, trying to stifle the sobs.

"I hate it, it's a vile object. But… I don't know how to explain it, Harry. I feel safe when it's with me. When I know where it is all the time." She said in scared whisper, and understanding struck – Hermione didn't want to get rid of it, but it's presence scared her.

"So that's why you can't rid of it?" he asked, and she nodded silently, her sobs subsiding.

"I hate it though." She said again angrily, pulling the blade out from her beaded bag and throwing it between them on the bed. They stared at it for a minute in silence and Harry noted with a stab of revulsion that Dobby's blood was still on it.

"What do I do, Harry? What should I do?" She said, voice desperate, and Harry shook himself out of his thoughts. It was the first time, if he remembered correctly, that Hermione had asked him for help; she had been the answer to most of their questions from as long as he could remember. It disconcerted him to see her so out of sorts, especially asking him for help.

"What if I keep it?" He said after a while, and Hermione looked at him surprised. He saw her consider the idea and nod slowly, "That's a good idea. I'll know it's in safe hands and can't cause anymore trouble. And I won't have to keep it with me either." She thought out loud, nodding slowly.

"Yes, yes Harry. That sounds good." She said finally and Harry smiled at her reassuringly, patting her hand. She seemed much more collected now as she wrapped the silver blade in a cloth and handed it to him.

"So what about the hocruxes? We don't know where the Malfoys are, do we?" She said, wringing her hands thoughtfully, and Harry sighed deeply, feeling the stabs of hunger in his belly sharpen.

"Listen Hermione, is this so important to do right now-?" he began, but Hermione cut him off, looking panicked.

"Of course Harry! We have to make sure that we collect them, I can't sit idle after all this – after everything that's happened. I can't – I need a project or I won't – " she began, before her voice constricted, and she looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. He understood the problem – she needed to keep herself occupied, just like him, except she had to do it in a typical Hermione fashion, with a huge project to take care of.

"I don't see how I have to participate too. How about this – I take care of the dagger and you collect the Hocruxes. I won't feel comfortable having them near me for the same reasons you feel that with the dagger. So _you_ can hide them." He said, and Hermione brightened.

"Oh, that's a really good idea Harry! It's fair, and – oh, you really need to eat, don't you? I have to warn you though, Madam Pomfrey's going to be here soon."

"What? Why?" He said, turning around to face her – he had just been about to go down to the kitchen. Hermione had a guilty expression on her face as she answered him – "I sort of let slip that you'd actually died. So she said that you're to eat and she'll visit you here to give a thorough check-up."

"Why would you do that, Hermione? Why, why, why?" He whined childishly, feeling annoyed at his brilliant bushy haired friend. All he needed was a good rest – he would be right as rain in no time.

"Would you rather be in St. Mungo's? They'll cut you open to get an answer to how you survived the killing curse – how many times is it now?" She said, walking towards him to the door, giving him an exasperated look.

"Thrice now? I think…" He said glumly, conceding her point as they walked down the stairs together, glaring her half-singed hair in front of him. Sometimes, he hated when she was right.

 **Review please?**


	2. The One With Decisions Decisions

**Chapter 2**

When Harry stepped into the kitchen, he had not expected to see Ron there, or Neville, or Luna, or Seamus and Dean, for that matter. The place was also glinting oddly – like everything had been polished with extra shiny wax, and he could spot Kreacher slowly making his way towards him, his large eyes astonished as they fell on him.

"Master has finally returned. Master is alive… Kreacher hoped… of course, his old masters told Kreacher his master was dead, but Kreacher knew… he went to Hogwarts… Kreacher is sorry about Dobby… and Kreacher thinks master should have some onion soup and bread, master looks very thin."

He spoke all of this at an unexpectedly fast pace that Harry had difficulty comprehending it, and the old elf's head being sunk in a bow didn't help either. Harry smiled widely when Kreacher looked at him again, though the elf immediately turned to Hermione with a slightly filthy look, "And Master's friend… could have some too… of course, Kreacher merely suggests… Kreacher will follow orders…"

"Lovely elf you got there Harry." Seamus remarked with a grin as Kreacher moved away mumbling lowly. Hermione and Harry merely rolled their eyes before taking a seat at the kitchen table. Half of Seamus' face was covered in thick yellow paste – Harry had a nasty suspicion fire was involved, while Dean looked relatively unharmed except for a few bruises across his face, not unlike Harry, Hermione, Ron and Neville. Luna, on the other hand, merely looked like she had run through some rough bushes – her hair was tainted with what Harry was sure was blood and dirt, but her face held no sign of injury.

As they settled onto the table and dug into the soup Kreacher had produced for them, Harry tried to avoid Ron's eyes as much as possible, he wasn't sure he could take Ron being mad at him right then. Sure, they had already talked but soon enough, Fred's d–

The reality about Fred would settle in and they would all realize that it was his fault.

"Harry, what do you say?" Dean said and Harry looked around, surprised to see everyone looking at him expectantly. He had zoned out of the conversation apparently and looked at them blankly for a moment, before Neville decided to elaborate.

"Barnabas Cuffe's got in touch with Lee Jordan apparently, they want you for an interview, for obvious reasons. Kingsley thinks it's a good chance to present the public with the truth for once, so McGonagall suggested you talk with either Seamus or Lee, whoever is more comfortable, instead of Skeeter or some other prophet hag. What d'you say?"

Harry blinked for a second, before turning to Hermione with a meaningful look. "I don't really think the truth should be presented to the public. Won't that be… dangerous?"

Hermione looked over thoughtfully as Neville and Seamus exchanged looks – Dean, Ron and Luna were too busy eating, though they listened silently.

"He's right. We need to get our facts straight before we give any _specifics_ out in the open. Don't want another Riddle on our hands soon." Ron said with a mouth full of soup, and almost everyone turned to him with a glare. Hermione's clearly stated, 'Do not joke about this'.

"I- I mean…" He spluttered looking at Hermione and Harry had a bizarre desire to laugh – Ron was reminding him of Mr. Weasley when he opposed his wife.

"We know what you mean. We need to get our facts straight – the three of us, before we speak to this about anyone." Harry nodded, hastily looking at Ron, who give him a grateful look. Hermione nodded, eyes still fixed on Ron, before she turned to him.

"I think we should tell McGonagall everything. One adult needs to know, and she can help us figure out a good cover story." Hermione said.

"So you're not actually going to tell us what happened?" Dean said, frowning at Harry and Hermione, while Neville stared between them.

"There are some things, Dean… that are best, not revealed." Hermione said slowly, carefully. Dean was frowning heavily, and Seamus looked a bit unsure about what to say. Harry opened his mouth to defend Hermione further, but Neville intervened.

"Actually, guys, let's not forget 5th year." He said to Dean and Seamus, "I think Harry knows better than anyone that people have a right to know the truth but this is _Voldemort_ we're talking about. If he says there's something too dark for normal people to know, we should probably listen to that."

Harry had a sudden surge of… respect for Neville, this was something that Remus would have said in a situation like this. He stared as Neville continued eating his soup, a bit shocked, before saying, "Exactly what I mean, Neville. And we'll probably tell you everything one day – just you guys, not everyone – but as he said, now is really not the time anyone can handle that."

Seamus nodded, even though Dean didn't look quite as convinced, when the doorbell rang with a deep vibrating noise that was sure to wake up Mrs. Black's portrait.

* * *

"Potter, I don't give a rotting rat's arse if you saved the wizarding world, you just DIED twelve hours ago. You're MY patient and you're going to STAY IN THAT BED UNTIL I SAY SO."

A bit of shocked silence followed her words as the nice, calm, polite Hogwarts Matron Madam Pomfrey stood in the doorway of Harry's bedroom, panting and red in the face, glaring at Harry Potter.

Harry was sitting in his bed disgruntled, looking ready to revolt again, when he saw Hermione glare at him too. That made him clench his jaw and huff quietly.

Neville was standing behind the matron, ready to escort her out, looking like he was fighting a smile, while Ron smirked at Harry's distress by his side. He had a sudden urge to hurl something at the ginger, but resisted, only because Hermione would probably hex him before whatever he threw at him actually hit Ron.

Seamus and Dean had left, going back to other matters they needed solved, like their family and hundreds of other things related to them, and for the first time, Harry was a bit thankful that he had no such pressing responsibilities. Ron and Hermione, however, had plenty.

Hermione shuffled around with his potions, as Ron dragged two armchairs and settled them by his bed. Meanwhile Neville had escorted Madam Pomfrey outside and was leading a wet Luna up the stairs.

"Harry, you really need to go to sleep." Hermione said, sitting beside his legs, and he groaned petulantly. He did _not_ want to sleep just yet.

" _Now_." Hermione continued before he could say anything, and surprisingly, Ron intervened. "Let the man breathe Hermione. We've just defeated bloody Voldemort, I think we all deserve a bit of relaxation – not being ordered around."

Hermione flushed at his words and crossed her arms, but Harry could see this escalating into something worse. So he quickly spoke as Hermione opened her mouth to counter angrily – "That's right – I mean you're right too, of course, and I know I have to sleep because of this bloody medication and I will but I just wanted to know what you lot are going to do in the meantime."

"Well, I'm going to visit Gran and see if she's alright. Then probably go to McGonagall and see how I can help." Neville said, squishing into an armchair beside Luna and Ron leaned in as well.

"I'm going to take everyone home and- and sort out some other things." Ron said, and Harry knew he meant the funeral.

"I'll also be joining you, Ron. I need to talk to Mr. Shacklebolt about getting Dad back from Azkaban and then we need to rebuild our home." Luna said in a dreamy voice, completely at ease with the idea of her father being locked up in the horrible place.

" _Right_. Hermione?" Harry prompted, after everyone had stared at Luna for about half a minute, who seemed oblivious to it.

"Well, I'm- I'm free, I guess." Hermione said uncertainly, then threw a fleeting look at Harry and added, "Though I think I'll go to McGonagall as well."

"Really Hermione?" He looked at her amusedly, "Do you seriously need permission?"

She blushed a delicate shade of pink, "I- I, well, I didn't want to impose-"

"Rubbish. You're staying here." He said with a tone of finality in his voice he had often heard Mrs. Weasley use. "Luna, you and Mr. Lovegood are welcome to stay here while the house is getting ready." He continued, and was awarded with a brilliant smile that clashed with her bright hair.

"Ron, Neville, do I even have to say?" He turned to the two boys. They shared a face-splitting grin then, and he felt warmth spread through him. Yes, there had been casualties. Yes, they had lost people, loved ones. But they had survived. It was finally over – the darkness was gone and he suddenly felt lightheaded with belated relief. He could feel himself breathing better again.

They would build their world back together. He would. With his friends. His _family_.

* * *

When Harry woke up, the curtains around his bed were closed and it was dark. His throat felt as dry as Voldemort's love life and he suspected there was someone moving around in his room. While a part of his brain wanted to snatch up his wand and hex the person, the other part was protesting heavily to even opening his eyes.

"Harry, sorry it's me. I just got a letter from McGonagall – Dean and Seamus told her we need to sort out something important with her and that got me thinking – "

Hermione stopped, huffing as she pulled a chair next to his bed and sat in it, while Harry slowly sat up and poured himself a glass of water.

Once they were seated comfortably, Hermione pulled out a parchment and quill and began talking again.

"I wanted to ask you – what do you want to do now?"

"Probably sleep. Why?"

"I mean for the recovery process. Do you want to stay low for a while, help out in the reconstruction, what?"

"Oh, well, I haven't really thought about it but I do want to be involved. I think I've lain low for enough time."

She nodded her agreement, and flattened the parchment on his bed. "I'm going to make a list of all the things that have to be done. I have nothing to do myself and I don't really want my parents coming back just yet, so I'll help you. Is that okay?"

He rolled his eyes and nodded as she began reciting things he hadn't even thought of yet, and scribbling them on the parchment.

By the time they were done, the results were quite different. They had two lists, one had topics they needed to discuss with McGonagall and Kingsley, like how the repairs of Hogwarts were going to be made, the arrangements for funerals, finding missing and dead people, and a whole other bunch of things Hermione had thought out.

The other list had things he needed to look into more personally – visiting Andromeda Tonks and asking after Teddy's custody; making sure to testify for the Malfoys whenever the trials took place (so that they could ask for the Diary in time), sorting out his finances by looking into the Potter and Black Gringotts vaults, and deciding what to do with Grimmauld Place.

He had two options – either strip the place of all wards and enchantments and build the whole again, or leave it be with reinstated spells in case they needed a hideout again. They finally decided on the former; he didn't really want to leave the place his Godfather had spent his last hours in.

The talking and listing took up about two more hours of their time, during which the exhaustion had set in truly and deeply in his bones. They wrote a letter to McGonagall requesting a meeting the next night, along with Kingsley and everyone else she felt would be important. They had attached a copy of the other list, and then decided that sleep would be beneficial.

* * *

Harry woke up five hours later, and entered the kitchen yawning, only half-awake as images from his expected, but still unwelcome nightmare flashed before his eyes. Hermione was already there, making tea and looking more miserable than he had seen her in the evening; he could spot dark circles beneath her eyes. He felt guilty at once – sleep, especially sleeping separately, had been a bad idea. He didn't want to think what she might have gone through in her dreams, when she spoke hoarsely, "Sorry, did I wake you?"

His stomach turned with guilt again and he felt a lump form in his throat on seeing her apologetic expression. "Let me do that." He replied, quietly taking the pan from her hand.

He slowly cooked supper – it took him an hour – while Hermione sat in the chair closest to the fire with her tea. He had expected her to pull out a book, or talk, but she had only stared at the fire in deep thought. He was only half-curious about what was going on in her mind, because he wasn't sure they could talk about things so soon.

Ron joined them just as he finished, silently entering without any greeting. Hermione straightened up and left her morose staring, focusing instead on the food, and Ron.

"Harry, when are you planning on meeting the others?" Ron asked bluntly, sitting across from him and fixing him with a withering stare.

"Not so soon." He replied as normally as he could, setting the food, and trying to ignore his twisting stomach.

Ron stared at him for a minute, his ears turning slightly pink, a dangerous sign, before he finally pulled a plate towards himself.

"Well, Mum is going berserk, she thinks she's lost you too. Dad and Bill are worrying too so I think you need to visit soon if you don't want Ginny to hex your arse all the way to Hogwarts." Ron said all this in a very calm voice, but Harry his voice had risen by the end. He was piling food now, and the color in his face seemed to be fading.

"I had a panic attack the last time I thought about meeting them."

Ron stared at him, spoon halfway to his mouth.

"Try to meet them one at a time. Preferably not at the Burrow because that might be overwhelming." Hermione said quietly, and Ron nodded his assent, "Yeah that should work."

There was strained silence for another minute, before Hermione asked Ron who would be coming to the meeting with McGonagall that night, and the atmosphere lightened a bit as they decided to meet McGonagall beforehand and tell her the details of their mission now that it was over.

* * *

Proffessor McGonagall stared at them for three long minutes with an incredulous expression on her face, looking like she hoped someone would laugh and say they were kidding.

Finally, she took off her glasses and heaved a deep sigh, before walking around her office twice and standing behind her desk again.

"I take that we four are the only people with the complete knowledge of what has happened?"

"Yes, Proffessor." They replied in unison, and McGonagall nodded.

"So what do you propose shall be told to the general population? Surely, this story cannot be allowed to be presented in the open." She said, her mouth thinning into a line as she undoubtedly thought back to the Hocruxes and the dark magic associated with them.

"Uh, yes Proffessor. We were hoping that you would help us out with that. What do you think we should do?" Harry said, and McGonagall's eyebrows rose dangerously before she considered him for a moment and slowly nodded, speaking quietly to herself, "Yes, I suppose, now that Albus-"

She stopped and cleared her throat, putting on her glasses again, "Well, I think that we shall have to come up with an alternate half-truthful version of the story, for no doubt, the Daily Prophet shall have to print _something_."

"I have thought of something, Proffessor, but we'll need to discuss it first." Hermione said, and both Harry and Ron turned to her, confused.

"Yes, I thought of something, but I thought I'd tell you together." She shrugged, folding her hands. Harry saw Ron open his mouth to say something, when there was a knock at the door.

Kingsley entered, looking as worn as ever but stopped suddenly on noticing them. "Oh, Harry. I'll just wait outside, Minerva."

"No, that's quite alright, Kingsley, we will be with you in just a minute. I think we should meet in the Defence Classroom- it is the largest." McGonagall said, and Kingsley left silently with a nod.

"Well," she said, turning to the three of them, "I suppose we should get that meeting over with first, since everyone is here already. The rest we can discuss later."

Harry nodded and they followed her out silently, as he felt nervous again after a long time, knowing that a crowd of people waited to be addressed at the other side.

* * *

The meeting turned out to be a lot less stressful than he had anticipated. The focus remained generally off him, though there were a lot of whispers every time he was mentioned or spoke, and he received quite less sour looks than he had feared.

The main shock had been when he had entered – he felt foolish now for not realizing it earlier; most of the Weasleys were present, with the exception of Ron's mum- Mrs. Weasley, her second eldest son Charlie and George. Harry didn't even want to think about what George was going through, but facing the others soon drove it from his mind. Mr. Weasley shook his hand and patted him on the shoulder as fatherly as ever, which sent a feeling of relieved warmth through him, glad that he wasn't getting a cold shoulder. Bill had come in and grinned faintly, shaking his head as he whispered, "I can't believe you managed to break into Gringotts. I can't believe it! Right under my nose!"

Ginny had thrown herself into him as soon as she caught sight of him, and they had hugged for a bit longer than necessary, relishing in each other's warmth and sense of familiarity and finally, finally knowing that she was safe. She had made no move to kiss him, though she did look like she was about to cry. They had joined hands then, and sat together, not letting go until the meeting was over.

Percy looked worse for wear, though more so than everyone else, and didn't seem to be taking much in. Harry had been scared of seeing him, but Percy seemed unaffected on seeing him. He made no move to shake his hand at first, but suddenly wrapped him in a one-armed hug, his arms shaking slightly. A lump had formed in Harry's throat but he had held on tightly until Percy let go. He knew he deserved every inch of searing painful guilt he felt, so he made no move to push Percy away, even though pain burst in the middle of his chest and his breathing threatened to stop.

Re-uniting with the Weasleys was the highlight of the evening, for the rest of the matters were handled by Hermione and McGonagall. He didn't have a chance to recognize many of the people present but he was sure the DA were there, and all the teachers of Hogwarts, along with an unanticipated guest – Blaise Zabini. He was on the neutral side of the War, and hence had ended up being the head of the Deceased and Missing People Committee.

It was one of the first to be formed, and was followed by Bill's Funeral and Memorial Committee. They had slowly addressed each topic and formed a Committee for each task to be fulfilled, with a head and a headquarters for each one. Blaise was set up in the Leaky Cauldron, and was responsible for collecting the names of all those who had died, or were still missing and for prepping all the War lists.

The matter for the location of constructing a War Memorial had to be put on vote – as the opinions were divided on the War heroes being buried near Dumbledore's grave in the school grounds itself, and forming a separate cemetery, sans Memorial in the outskirts of Hogsmeade. The latter was decided upon, and Bill had volunteered for taking the responsibility for this one, saying he had a few funerals to plan himself anyway. He had set up headquarters in the Charms classroom.

The next matter to put to vote had been the continuation of Hogwarts as a school. McGonagall had fiercely answered that Hogwarts would be restored to it's former glory and be the school that Dumbledore had always wanted it to be, and Hermione had backed by saying that admissions would be opened this very year as children's education could not be compromised in any case.

McGonagall had been the automatic head for the Restoration of Hogwarts, or The Restoration of Hogwarts to It's Former Glory, as Ginny had dubbed it. She had offered that once the repairs were over, anyone in need for bedding or food would be welcome to stay at Hogwarts until term started, as there were bound to be many orphans of War surfacing soon.

Kingsley had then said that it was important Hogwarts would be up in good shape soon, because the general population could only focus on building the society back up if they were sure their children were in safe hands.

McGonagall had requested two sub-committees – one for carrying out repairs and construction efficiently, and the other for making the place livable for students, removing traces of dark magic, and general maintenance for those who would be living at the castle before term started.

Once the matter of Hogwarts was closed, Kingsley brought up the case to refine the Ministry of Magic, prioritizing the Auror Department so that they could quickly be brought back into action and start looking into damage control in the Muggle world, along with catching the Death Eaters who were now in hiding or had escaped.

Harry had liked this committee best out of all, so had put his name down as a volunteer Auror, but Kingsley had simply told him to rest for a while. Then he had decided to help in the repairs of Hogwarts, as suggested by McGonagall, so that they could be sure that the castle was clean of most dangerous objects or traces.

That had been a horrible decision, as he recalled the next day, when he had been helping in cleaning one of the corridors on the third floor, and a crowd had formed as a result of his presence.

That had been the cause of his informal house-arrest, since Kingsley had suggested that he remain underground for a while as the reaction to his presence was always… aggressive, in one way or the other.

* * *

 **So, mind leaving a teensy review to tell me what you think?**


	3. The One With Shocks and Slytherins

**Chapter 3**

It had been three days since the meeting and Harry was just realizing how Sirius must have felt in his last days, stuck here while everyone was out, doing important work and being constructive. Trapped in his own thoughts, he had spent most of his waking as well as unconscious moments going through the last few months. He had been barely eating, and every and any little thing could set him off in a horde of tears – he felt rather like Mrs. Weasley. Fortunately, the crying mostly helped with the frustration, though the guilt still seared through him like a snake every time he thought about… them. Thankfully, there had not been many visitors except Ron and Hermione, who were not in much shape to notice things themselves.

It was with such dampening thoughts had Harry had left the bedroom that morning, not noticing the long, sleek wand and old ring lying on his bedside table.

It was afternoon by the time he realized what had happened. He had stood stock still, staring at the artifacts, not processing what he was seeing. He had _broken_ that wand with his own hands. He looked down at his hands as he thought this, as if hoping to see some defect in them- something, to explain how it repaired itself.

There was suddenly a deep vibrating sound in the whole house, which he realized was the doorbell, as he stared blankly at the table. It would be Luna and Mr. Lovegood as they were supposed to stay at Grimmauld Place for some time, his brain faintly supplied as the portrait of Mrs. Black started shouting at the top of her voice.

He made a decision at that moment, and picked up a sock lying on the floor. Without thinking much, he stuffed the wand and ring into it, threw it in the lowest compartment of his cupboard, and then dashed down the stairs.

With Mrs. Black still shouting obscenities in the background, he opened the door to see Luna's brightly smiling face, followed by Mr. Lovegood, who looked rather vacant and hollow, both of them dripping wet.

He shifted aside and tried to apologize over the racket Mrs. Black was making, but found that they couldn't hear each other at all. He led them to the kitchen, and quickly shot a stunning spell at the portrait.

When he entered back, Mr. Lovegood was looking at him strangely, as if he didn't recognize him, and followed his movements with his deeply sunken but alert eyes, until Luna spoke.

"You look troubled Harry. Is something wrong?" she said softly, blinking up at him unnervingly.

"Uh, no. Why are you wet?" he said, almost flinching at his words, and wondering how Luna could always spot such things.

"We came back straight from Azkaban. I've already collected all our belongings from the wreckage of the house." She replied serenely, removing her bag.

"Oh." He replied, surprised, and once again unnerved at how she seemed cool with her father being at Azkaban. She simply smiled and started setting the fire.

"Right then." Harry said again, deciding it was best to go with things for now, "Let me put on some tea."

* * *

Within a month, things were well underway. Hogwarts was almost ready to be lived in, and it looked as beautiful as ever, with most of the repairs complete. The funerals had been taken care of and the memorial for War Heroes right outside Hogsmeade was established exactly a month later. A special funeral service was held and it seemed that half the wizarding population had attended.

Harry himself had to go in disguise on everyone's insistence. Questions had soon begun emerging about his whereabouts, so they had decided to get an interview underway with Seamus. He had joined the Daily Prophet as a trainee of sorts, and since Seamus was thankfully one of the people Harry didn't feel very uncomfortable talking to, an interview was arranged beforehand, of course, the questions as well as answers.

Once it had been released, Harry made himself scarce again, making sure to show up in Diagon Alley or visit Hogwarts occasionally to keep them from wondering about his whereabouts much. He was enjoying the laid back lifestyle, but it was stained with a few problems that were still plaguing his mind.

For one, he hadn't had the courage to tell anyone about the Hallows uniting in his cupboard after three days of the war being over, even Ron and Hermione were unaware. Harry had faintly considered the possibility of someone playing tricks with him, but as it was, no one knew about them. There was the question of Grimmauld Place' security measures which made anyone untrustworthy difficult to enter, and also the fact that he had snapped the Elder Wand in two the last time. Nothing in known existence could possibly repair a snapped wand, as he had found out after his own had suffered the same fate.

To add to his worries, Hermione had been living at Grimmauld Place as well, and she was doing much worse than him in the healing department. She had constant nightmares about the events of the Malfoy Manor, or something else that had her ultimately crying in her sleep, and he often found himself waking her up and accompanying her in the kitchen with a drink in the middle of the night. It happened to him as frequently as her, but neither of them mentioned whose nightmares had woken up whom; it had slowly become routine for the first two weeks.

When he had finally visited Andromeda Tonks to talk about Teddy's custody, he had learnt that she was a healer, one of the heads in St. Mungos, but was currently off duty to take care of Teddy, at least until things settled down. He had thought it was a bit selfish of her at the time, but then he had remembered that Teddy was practically the only family she had left. The custody had been split between them, and Harry had decided to provide the financial help to help things along for her, while he himself healed to the point that he could be held responsible for another human being.

Anyway, on learning about her skills as a healer, he had asked her to consider taking up Hermione's case as a favor to him, and because she needed it. She had refused to go to any healer in St. Mungo's when he had suggested it to her, saying that she didn't want any more attention of the Prophet than she already had because of working at Hogwarts. Harry didn't care though, he was being selfish in this case – it was torture for him to hear her scream every night, a reminder of what had happened due to his foolishness, stubbornness. She had finally agreed to talk to Andromeda, or Andy, as she called her now, but on the condition that he saw her and talked it out as well. Harry didn't mind though – he only told Andromeda what he wanted to, and mostly skipped the dark parts. They usually ended up gossiping about something or the other anyway, because Andromeda claimed that she knew what kind of a person he was – that he wouldn't feel comfortable sharing with her.

She had been absolutely right, so now he met her occasionally, and Teddy too – who was their little bundle of joy. Harry loved the way he smiled widely on seeing him, immediately turning his hair black to mirror his. That meant he recognized him and liked him, even though he was hardly two months old. On the other hand, while Hermione had gotten a bit better with the help of her subscribed potions, he wasn't so sure that the potions hadn't messed with her mental capabilities.

Blaise Zabini had evidently joined them in helping out after wrapping up his duties of preparing the War lists. Hermione had apparently found an unlikely friend in the guy, and seemed to trust him. Harry, however, wasn't sure that he liked the idea of Zabini anywhere near the Weasleys, Hermione, and the rest of the people he cared about, and Ron shared his opinion, although he had confronted Hermione in a much more aggressive manner.

They had argued yet again, but Hermione had apparently sweet-talked Mrs. Weasley into inviting Zabini for dinner at the Weasleys in order to snuff Ron. Harry had not yet met the boy formally, except the silent jeers and looks of loathing they had exchanged in Potions class and Slug Club in sixth year. He had voiced his mistrust to Hermione, saying how unusual it was that he was suddenly willing to be on the cohorts with her, who every member of Slytherin had snubbed for being Muggleborn for all her life. Hermione had become horribly flustered, that in itself proving that she was hiding something from him, but at last said that she had reason to trust him as he was helping her with something. Harry would have liked to continue asking her more about it, but that had felt like pushing his luck – as Hermione looked ready to hex him by that point.

Another little puzzle in his life had been his relationship with Ginny. He loved her, he knew he loved her and he knew that she loved him, but that was it. They had kissed, even started having sex, but something felt horribly wrong. He had an idea that it was everything he couldn't tell her that was forming the barrier between them, and when he had voiced the thought – Ginny agreed. But she also agreed that they didn't have to stop seeing each other because of that. Harry thought he knew where she was coming from – being was Ginny, talking to her about inane things, the few times that they laughed together, sometimes those were the only things that kept him from falling apart. He was pretty sure Ginny had the same feeling – they were familiar, and they understood each other. That was all they needed right now.

Another thing that had been on his mind was the lack of progress the team of Aurors seemed to be making. There had not been a single report of an important or high-rated Death Eater being caught, even though the Aurors had been scouring every possible place and lead for the last two weeks, in particular with regard to the Malfoys. Maybe he was hoping for too much too soon, but the lack of results was gnawing away at his consciousness- he was sure things would have been moving much faster if he was allowed to join the Auror Force.

The rest of them who had been captured were presented on trial at the Wizengamot, but as they were not the more wanted wizards, Harry didn't see a reason to attend them. He got the almost complete report from Mr. Weasley soon afterward anyway.

Harry cast a quick look at his watch, as he remembered that it was almost time for him to leave for The Burrow for dinner. They mostly had dinner with the Weasleys despite living at Grimmauld Place, but today was supposed to be a special gathering. Kingsley had apparently requested it because he had been missing Mrs. Weasley's cooking, who had taken the opportunity to invite a few more people- McGonagall, Hagrid, Mr. Lovegood and Luna, Neville and his grandmother Augusta, Andromeda and Teddy and, on Hermione's insistence, Blaise Zabini as well.

He was snapped out of his thoughts as the doorbell rang with a horrible deep 'ding' and woke Mrs. Black's portrait, who grabbed the chance to start her deafening tirade of curses. Harry swore under his breath as Mrs. Black's voice pounded in his ears, threatening a headache, and climbed quickly down the stairs, wondering who would call for him this late in the evening.

After he stunned the shouting woman's curtains close again, he moved to the door to open it but frowned. Someone seemed to be laughing quietly on the other side of the door and Harry was sure he didn't recognize the sound. Silently pulling his wand from his sleeve, he clicked the lock open, only to be faced with another lost classmate.

"Potter." The familiar boy nodded, face pale underneath the shock of black hair, a faint smirk stretched across his face as he thrust his hand forward to shake, "Heard you saved my life."

"Theodore Nott", he found himself saying confusedly, as he blinked at the Slytherin standing at his door. "Uh… yeah. What's up?" he said, wondering what exactly was going on. First Zabini and now Nott?

"Nothing much. Invite me inside so we can talk properly, would you?" Nott replied amiably, folding his hands behind his back, and Harry noticed his appearance for the first time.

He was wearing a handsome, well-tailored muggle suit, which was very out of place for a Slytherin pureblood wizard, and there was a small white bandage on his forehead above the right eye. He looked, for all the world, harmless and decidedly muggle. This in itself was very unnerving, Harry decided, and coupled with his honest and open expression, something was bound to be very wrong.

Sighing deeply, as he saw no other way to address the situation, at least a way which did not include the use of wands, Harry moved aside, indicating Nott to enter. The boy nodded and stepped inside as Harry closed the door behind him. Nott observed the elf-heads on the walls with interest, and then looked around at Harry when he made no move to step forward from the door.

"What do you want?" Harry asked quietly, positioning himself directly in front of the door and folding his arms. Nott seemed to notice the clear change in Harry's demeanor, and his expression flickered for a moment, before it shifted into one of indifference.

"Very well. I am here under the impression that I was brought to Madam Pomfrey after the Battle by you. As such, I wish to repay your… kindness, with an offer that I thought you might find profitable." Nott spoke in a clear monotone, which was a stark contrast to the friendly greeting he had just entered with.

Harry found himself unsure for a moment. Nott didn't look like he meant any harm, and so far he had given no reason to distrust him, so it was only fair that he didn't draw his own wand. He didn't forget that he was talking to the son of a confirmed Death Eater though, so he was still rather reluctant to invite him further into the house.

As he considered the boy before him, Nott raised an eyebrow, waiting politely for his response and Harry sensed that he didn't look like he would press the matter if he refused. Throwing caution to the winds as curiosity got the better of him, Harry gave a single reluctant nod and led the way to the kitchen.

He was very much aware of the boy following him as he climbed the stairs down to the kitchen. Harry hastily drew his wand and started the fire, as Nott looked around the room curiously for a while, before settling on one of the chairs at the long table beside the fire.

"What is this place, again?" he asked, brushing his hand against the table and grimacing as a thin layer of dust gathered on his hand. He quickly wiped it on a handkerchief withdrawn from his pocket, as Harry sat opposite him.

"Grimmauld Place." Harry replied cryptically, knowing that Nott probably already knew that. Sure enough, Nott cast him a defiant look, "Yes, I'm aware. However, it doesn't really look like a place that belongs to a Potter."

"Really? What gave it away?" Harry raised an eyebrow, fighting a smirk, as Nott relaxed back on the chair.

"Decorations are too cheerful for you." He quipped, and Harry chuckled bitterly. Nott smirked then, looking comfortable once he had established that he was not going to be hexed or cursed out of the house.

"What's this offer then?" Harry said, folding his arms on the table in front of him, and Nott nodded at once.

"Yes. I believe that you have been trying to find the Malfoys." He stated, and Harry frowned.

Sure, he had been trying to find them, along with the rest of the complete Auror force.

"Yes. What about it?" He replied, and Nott regarded him for a minute in silence.

"I have also learnt that you wish to vouch for them at the trial in front of the Wizengamot, should it take place." He said, voice blank and business-like as before and Harry narrowed his eyes. _That_ particular piece of information was not known to many.

"The trial will take place. Every suspected, accused and even clearly guilty wizard will be given a trial. We've made sure of that." Harry replied tartly, his mind still stuck on the fact that Nott somehow had insider information about his activities. "And yes, I do plan to vouch for them, why?"

Nott hummed, considering Harry carefully before he spoke again, "Who exactly are you talking about when you say 'them'?"

Harry frowned, "Draco and Narcissa Malfoy. Who else?" he replied, wondering what the boy was getting at. Nott nodded, pursing his lips in thought.

"And what about Lucius Malfoy?" he asked, and Harry's expression darkened immediately.

"Not him." He replied flatly, "He was a confirmed Death Eater, sighted on several occasions and he has already been imprisoned once for the charge. Caught red-handed with a bunch of others at the Minsitry of Magic a few years before, you remember I hope?"

Nott Sr. had been one of the Death Eaters present at the Ministry as well, and if the boy before him remembered this, he gave no indication of it except nodding once, and Harry continued, "Narcissa Malfoy saved my life by lying to Voldemort in his face and Draco Malfoy was being blackmailed while he committed most of the crimes he is accused of. Hence, I will only provide my word for those I believe to be innocent."

Nott was looking at him with a very curious expression as Harry talked, and slowly nodded when he finished.

"I would frankly expect nothing less from a man like you Potter." Nott said finally, and Harry didn't know if it was meant as a compliment or not. He stood up then and stuck his hand out formally as he continued, "I will take word of this to the Malfoys and try to convince them to come out of hiding."

Harry stopped shaking his hand in surprise, realizing that that was the offer Nott was making him - to bring the Malfoys out of hiding if he gave his word to vouch for them. It was admittedly a bit odd, but, Harry thought, if it quickened the process of bringing the Malfoys out of hiding, it could be worth the effort.

"Why would you do that?" he said at last, not able to help himself as Nott turned to leave.

"You saved my life." He said simply, "I wished to repay the favor so that I didn't have to carry it around my consciousness the rest of my life."

Harry pursed his lips – it sounded fair, as Nott looked like a fairly proud man who didn't appreciate keeping debts. "And how did you know about this particular bit of information?" he asked over the clambering noise as they climbed back up the stairs.

"Your friend Granger asked Blaise if he had any idea about Draco and his parent's whereabouts. He knew I did, so he reached out." Nott replied matter-of-factly, and Harry frowned. He would have to have another word with Hermione about talking to Zabini about sensitive things, though admittedly, this one had had a nice side-effect.

As they reached the landing, in the dim light, Harry's eyes were level with the boy's neck as he was at least a head taller than him; he spotted two thick lines of black ink emerging from the collar of his coat from his neck and ending right below his ears. It seemed he had some sort of tattoo on his back.

"Say Potter, whose house is this again?" Nott said, stopping and turning, waving an arm towards the elf-heads.

"It belonged to the Blacks, if you must know." Harry replied, and watched as Nott whistled and looked about more carefully.

"That's interesting. How'd you get landed with that?" he asked half-accusingly, narrowing his eyes. It looked like he was trying to work out if Harry's ancestry connected with the Blacks in anyway, but was coming up empty.

Harry considered him for a minute before replying. He remembered him as a lonely boy from his year in Slytherin who didn't have many friends, and he especially hadn't been spotted hanging out with Draco Malfoy. If he had, he would be aware that Sirius had left him the house. It also occurred to him at that time, had he been involved with Death Eater activities with his father, he would have been aware of this place as Headquarters of the Order as well.

As both those facts seemed foreign to him; Harry grudgingly formed the conclusion that Nott hadn't been involved as a Death Eater, or a potential one, like Draco, during Voldemort's reign.

"Sirius Black was my godfather. He left it to me, along with everything else." Harry replied finally, noticing how Nott was now checking out every small item closely. To be honest, he seemed to give off an air of greedy interest similar to Mundungus Fletcher, though it was much much more subtle than the smelly thief.

Nott looked surprised for a second, before smirking. "Bet Draco likes that." He said, and Harry found himself returning a half-smile. Yes, he could surely imagine Draco thinking the items in Black vault belonged to him, as he was actually the true heir after the bitch, Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Well," Nott continued, "it looks like you'll be renovating soon if you're going to live here permanently." He looked pointedly at the rotting umbrella stand that was surprisingly still there, Harry hadn't noticed. "You might want to contact me if you want to get rid of some old stuff here. I could get you some fair bit of gold in exchange of some of the useless things. I know a few people who might want the stuff." He added at Harry's raised eyebrows.

Harry nodded obligingly, not sure if he would be calling upon the boy himself. "Well, er – Thanks, I guess." Harry said finally, and Nott nodded as well, as they finally shook hands, before the Slytherin stepped outside, straightening his coat as left.

* * *

 **So? How was that? Long? Fun, not fun? Anyone pick up on any references?**


	4. The One With The Parties

**Chapter 4**

Harry found himself stepping out of the Weasley's Floo into the kitchen, an hour later than the time he was supposed to arrive, courtesy of his surprise guest. He was quickly spotted by Mrs. Weasley, who was alone in the kitchen, and was promptly pulled into a bone-crushing hug.

"Harry! Finally, you're here! What took you so long? I was quite worried. I was just about to send Ron to check-"

"Oh, I er- overslept, Mrs. Weasley. Nothing to worry about." He replied quickly, as Mrs. Weasley surveyed him and dusted soot off his robes.

"Alright then, everyone's in the garden, off you go! And take these with you." She said, handing him four goblets and ushering him towards the back door.

Harry was greeted with the smell of freshly made food, and a thump from Ron, who seemed to have been standing right by the door.

"What took you so long? Hermione's been going barmy, can you believe Mum actually invited that _git_ – " Ron said, stopping suddenly as Harry caught sight of Hermione rushing towards them, followed by a tall figure, that Harry couldn't really make out in the slowly fading light of the evening. It didn't take him long to realize that Hermione was towing Blaise Zabini towards them, who seemed to be voluntarily touching her.

He looked sideways at Ron, who looked a bit pink around the ears, but taking the goblets from Harry's hands, quickly walked away.

"Hi Harry, I suppose Theo dropped by then?" Hermione said without preamble, as Harry raised an eyebrow at Zabini behind her. The dark-skinned boy nodded once, with what could be a hint of a smile, but Harry was almost sure his eyes were deceiving him. Since when did Slytherins smile instead of sneer?

"Yes, he did. We need to talk about that, Hermione." He muttered, looking unsurely at Zabini, who smirked at him lightly, "Weasley's already done with the death threats. Please tell me _you_ will get to the point." He said, his eyes moving to fix on Ron, who was watching them from the table in the way Crookshanks often watched his prey.

"Let's get out of here for a while." Hermione said meaningfully, nodding towards the old shed where Mr. Weasley usually kept his favorite muggle automobile parts hidden from his wife. It was out of the way from the where the table was set, and seemed like a good spot for a conversation.

"First of all, I'd like to know why exactly you trust him." Harry said as they entered the shed, casting a faint lumos so he could see their expressions. He saw Hermione roll her eyes, as Zabini chuckled, "Because I'm actually a secret muggle lover and just couldn't come out and say it right away before? Now let's get to the part that matters – do you understand the offer they're making?"

Harry blinked at Hermione's 'yeah' expression for a while, processing that information, then finally nodded, "Yes, I understood it. They want to make sure I'll vouch for them at the trials before they come out of hiding."

"No. That's not it. Is that all he said?" Zabini said exasperatedly, and Harry found himself nodding confusedly, "Yes. Why? What else?"

"For fucks' sake, you'd think the idiot would know to state all the facts when making a deal. But no, he just can't handle anything but numbers. Bloody fuckin – " Zabini was saying, looking at Harry like he was supposed to understand all he was saying, but Harry could only raise his eyebrows at Hermione, as she interrupted the wizard's tirade.

"The _point_ , Blaise." She said, closing her eyes, and Zabini stopped momentarily, looking at her. "Yes yes. So listen Potter, here's the deal – the Malfoys know that you'll vouch for all of them but Lucius. So they want to strike a deal that you vouch for Lucius and in exchange, he'll give you every single detail about every Death Eater he knows. Everything – secret hideouts, strengths, weaknesses, everything. Only condition is you vouch for him in front of the complete community."

Harry realized that this was too good an offer to deny – what they could do with all that information was invaluable. On the other hand, that would include a serious breach of his morals because he knew Lucius wasn't capable of a pardon. He should be serving time in Azkaban with his mates, but he was going to help the man avoid that, and most possibly buy his way back into the Ministry ranks. Was the risk worth taking?

He looked towards Hermione for advice, she shrugged her shoulders, "They asked me first when the Malfoys proposed it but I told them it was ultimately your decision." She said, exchanging a glance with Zabini, who looked at him carefully.

"Okay, how about you think on it Potter? Just remember one thing – if there's one quality that Draco's family has that makes them redeemable, it's that they'll go to any lengths to protect each other." He said, folding his arms in a relaxed way, "I'd just like to warn you that there's a possibility that you won't catch the rest of them without Lucius Malfoy's help."

Harry considered that and nodded, realizing that was probably true. "I'll think about it. Hermione will let you know I suppose?"

"Yeah, cool. So you sleep on it, and I'm going to leave before Weasley comes here and blows up in my face again." He said, looking at the table in the distance, which had colorful lights hanging around it now, "I swear if looks could kill, I'd be six feet under right now."

Harry chuckled as Hermione shook her head, and Blaise turned to him, extending a hand, "So see you around, Potter?" he said, and Harry found himself reluctantly shaking his hand, swallowing his surprise at the gesture.

"See you tomorrow at 12, Hermione. Good night, ya both." He said giving Hermione a one-armed hug, before walking away quietly to the apparition spot outside the Weasley garden. Barely anyone seemed to have noticed that he had left, except maybe Ron.

"Bit of a surprise, isn't he?" Hermione said, as Harry entered the old shed, lighting a few lamps with his wand so that the place was ablaze with light. He could see Sirius' motorcycle propped up in the back, Mr. Weasley had apparently still been tinkering with it.

"Yeah, I guess. Both Zabini and Nott. I'd expected them to be more like Malfoy, to be honest, all nods and frozen expressions." Harry said, and Hermione chuckled beside him.

"They're not that difficult to understand, you know. They've gone through the same things as us, just from a different perspective. Only difference is we could express ourselves, and they couldn't." She said, melancholy in her tone, as she inspected one pair of plugs.

"I guess I would have to agree to that. There's one thing I still don't get though – why _are_ they helping us communicate? What do they get in return?"

"That's easily answered Harry. Blaise is only doing this for Malfoy – apparently only Theo knows where they are hiding, and Draco's pretty miserable in the place, along with his mother and father, no doubt. They're desperate to come clean, and when I happened to mention that you were upset we couldn't track them down, Blaise saw an opportunity and took it." Hermione explained, moving on to inspecting the several wires in the shelves.

"And how does Theo fit into this?" he asked, moving along with her, frowning at the back of her head.

"Blaise knew you saved Theo's life, who is a very proud individual apparently and he knew Theo had information you needed. Two plus two."

Harry hummed in understanding – it was still very much confusing for him but he figured it was far from him to understand how the Slytherins' inner circle worked. "So Nott's a pretty useful man, I guess, huh?"

"Looks like it – oh! That reminds me Harry – Blaise knows George Gliniecki's assistant. He said he could fix up an appointment right away at his personal quarters so you don't have to go to the Ministry."

George Gliniecki was the Head of Magical Location Concealment in the Department of Magical Law and Enforcement. The moment Harry had decided that he wanted to rebuild Grimmauld Place, Hermione had presented him with the required people he needed to meet. Kingsley had refused point blank to let him be seen near the Ministry as it would call in hundreds of questions from the Prophet. That reminded him –

"Hermione, what do you think Kingsley will have to say about this offer?" He said turning to face her as she walked behind him. She frowned for a moment before answering, "You think that's a good idea – telling him?"

"Well, I don't think the Prophet's going to remain quiet when I wrongly support Lucius Malfoy. I'll be contradicting my earlier statements and the Prophets going to have a field day and Kingsley will have to deal with the mess later. I think it's best if we prepare him first. That way the Auror force can be already prepared too." Harry rambled off, his mind spinning ahead – he needed both Kingsley and Percy's advice on this. While Mr. Weasley would obviously find out soon enough too, Percy's take on the matter would be beneficial to check out the public response to him acting de facto.

"Um… Harry, I don't… I'm not sure you should do this but if you think it's a good idea-"

"Why? Why do you think it's not?"

He looked as she bit her lip slightly in thought and leaned against Sirius' bike – it was propped up on bricks and Hermione was too light to disturb it, "Well, it's just – you'll have to tell this to Blaise and Theo too – that Kingsley knows about what's going to happen. If you tell him, you're going to have to make an elaborate plan with the Auror office so that they can stage a heist. OR we don't know if the Malfoys will agree for a heist – what if they just want to surrender? That'll make the aurors look bad. It's going to get complicated if you involve the Ministry in this plan… so just think about it."

Harry decided to sit by the bike for a while, thinking it all over and arguing with himself over and over again as to which the right course of action would be. Hermione left and returned after a few minutes, saying that Mr. Weasley was looking for him – Mrs. Weasley had accidentally counted Fred and laid an extra plate for him. She had broken into sobs and ran into the house and George had apparated away somewhere.

George had just got out of his shell – this was the first time he was meeting everyone outside his room and now suddenly this. Harry quickly got up and jogged after Hermione and they both ran into the twinkling garden.

* * *

"Fleur's preganant." Bill whispered in the darkness and Harry stared at his silhouette, shocked, "That's – Wow! That's amazing! Congratulations!" Harry had trouble keeping his voice down as Bill shushed him with a chuckle.

"Yeah, we were gonna tell everyone after dinner but well, I figured now's better than anytime." Harry felt Bill shrug in the darkness as they crouched behind a trashcan in the alleyway.

George had pulled a few disappearing acts like these over the past month and a half and had always ended up in a new place everytime. It was mostly a pub around England or just the Hog's Head but he had also visited the shop once. After getting everyone together at the dinner, Kingsley had divided them off in pairs and sent them in different directions.

Harry had ushered Ginny in to look after her Mum before she could revolt, though she had given him a filthy look before stalking inside the house. Bill had ferociously denied Fleur the chance to join too and she had left in a similar manner as well – and Harry now knew why. Arthur was home with Molly, along with Charlie, Ginny, Teddy, Luna and her father and Hagrid. Andromeda and Augusta had stayed to serve them a slow dinner inside, while waiting for the others to return. McGonagall and Ron had went to search Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, Kingsley, Percy, Neville and Hermione would look in the countryside and other villages and Harry and Bill were at the shop in Diagon Alley.

They had spotted George on the ground floor of the shop and quietly sent a patronus to the others to go back home and stay put. It had been an hour since they had found him and had been hiding since, to make sure George did nothing wrong. He had simply been exploring the house upstairs since then, and Harry's legs were so cramped that he doubted he would be able to walk anytime soon.

* * *

It was 11 in the night when George agreed to come home with them – oddly enough, he was talking even less than he had been before the dinner but they were just thankful he had agreed to come along quietly.

Mrs. Weasley was red in the face when she saw her son, her expression was a mix of upset and relief but did she look ready to shout indefinitely. Before she could even start though, George spoke.

"I'm going to start the shop back up."

It was almost like someone else had spoken, but everyone in the room seemed to hold their breath and stare at George transfixed as he continued, turning towards Hermione and Ron, "I'll need your help to catch up and figure out the time we've - I've missed out on. And I'm sorry that I didn't have the guts to finish this phase sooner, Mum. I'm sorry."

With that he strode to Mrs. Weasley and hugged her tightly, tears streaming down his face, and she too seemed to have lost control again and was sobbing into her son's shirt. There was a faint murmur as everyone else left the room too – leaving the Weasleys to themselves. Harry went to seek out Kingsley at once, he looked around for Hermione to accompany him, but she was trying hard to contain herself after looking at Mrs. Weasley, her head buried in Andromeda's shoulder.

* * *

The week after the Weasley's dinner was the most progressive one Harry might have seen. Kingsley and Percy were both in favor of the plan, and thankfully, he had handed the matter over to Hermione soon so they could meet with Zabini and Nott and lay out the intricacies of the matter. All he needed to do in the end was give his statement and brave for the people's reaction – not that it mattered much to him anymore. All he cared about what getting Hermione to Andromeda's place four times a week so they could have their sessions and make sure that she kept as busy as she could. Even Andy had admitted that projects would keep Hermione busy and distracted, which was all they wanted to do right then.

McGonagall had provided the happy news that Hogwarts would be finished and ready to shelter people in the last week of June, such a large taskforce headed by Neville, Zabini and Hermione had helped a lot. That night was the first time he had argued with Hermione after the war, she had wanted to move to Hogwarts, insisting that she didn't want to intrude on him anymore. Harry had tried to threaten her but she still hadn't budged. So then he had to do the unspeakable thing he mostly avoided doing – he had to flatly tell her that she was the nearest thing he had to a sister, a family right now, and he couldn't handle if she decide to leave him now. That had shut her up permanently.

Neville had also had much publicity after the war – but nothing made him happy more than the fact that McGonagall had entrusted him with the duty of gathering the wizarding students for the first year. The job that previously Dumbledore had entrusted to McGonagall was his now, as their strict teacher had told him, that she saw great potential in him and he was sure to make a great Head of House one day. Neville had invited everyone for drinks at The Leaky Cauldron – Dean, Seamus, Ron, him, Ginny, Luna, Hermione and surprisingly, Zabini and Lavender Brown as well. That party, however, had to be moved once people had started recognizing Harry. Before much chaos could reign, they were having drinks and chatting away in a snug little flat that Dean and Seamus shared, Zabini included, something that Harry found he cared less and less about as the evening progressed.

The flat was a typical muggle place but with surprisingly lots of space to sit around – if one counted the kitchen counter where Blaise was chatting up Hermione. Ron and Harry were sitting side by side watching the interaction with narrowed eyes, when suddenly Hermione walked towards them.

"Harry, Ron – have you decided your NEWTs yet?" she chirped, settling between them, and Harry and Ron exchanged a bewildered look before both turning to Blaise simultaneously. The man looked honestly guilty as he held up his hands in a what-can-I-do gesture. Hermione followed their gaze and giggled, "Isn't he cute?"

It was panic in Ron's eyes as they looked at each other this time, but Harry spoke before Ron could – "Uh, no Hermione. We haven't decided if we'll go to Hogwarts this year or not. I mean, Kingsley said the Auror programme-"

"Oh come on! Not that again – wait, I can't do this today." She said crossly, and admittedly a bit drunkenly, and turned to the others in the room.

"GUYS!" She shouted, and Harry and Ron shifted away from her as she stood up, calling everyone's attention to herself. Lavender and Seamus seemed pretty cozy on a couch and Dean and Luna were very deep in conversation. Neville and Ginny seemed to be sitting idly though, and looked up to Hermione with a smile, clearly seeing she was a bit drunk.

"I just wanted to ask who of you are going to go back to Hogwarts this year, because I AM!"

There were loud barks of laughter around the room as Hermione giggled at herself too and Blaise smirked from the kitchen. Dean and Seamus were the first to answer with a positive, saying they had applied for internship at the Prophet, so needed a complete Hogwarts qualification to join.

"Seamus at the Daily Prophet? Are you sure that's a good idea?" Ron said conversationally, and Dean frowned, "Why?"

"Well, it's only that you've been blowing shit up since first year – who's to say you won't burn your Boss' office down?"

There was a roar of laughter and Dean thumped his fist on the sofa, while Seamus went red but didn't say much as Lavender pinched his colored cheeks.

"I guess the Headlines would be 'Intern Burns Down Headquarters'." Dean chimed in and there was a fresh squeal of laughter from Luna, who was holding her sides. Her reaction lead to another five minutes of mind numbing laughter, which slowly ended when Neville talked.

"I'm going to have to complete the year too – I plan to apply for the Herbology post at Hogwarts and I'll need two years' training for that, which can only start after clearing NEWT level Herbology. So I guess I'll be attending too."

"My Mum's told me to attend too – even if I get a job in the muggle world, she wants me to finish my education here." Lavender quipped from beside Seamus.

"My Dad says once our house is rebuilt and The Quibbler sales are back to the level they used to be, we can go on a world tour to look for Crumple Headed Snorkack. But that could take years so I'll finish Hogwarts in the meantime." Luna gave her useful input, which had Hermione twitching in her seat, before Ginny spoke, drawing the attention to her.

"I have no other choice than to pass time because I want to be a professional Quidditch player and I'm not of age yet. So I'll just suck up to old SLuggy in the meantime and hope he gets me a meet with Gweneg Jones sometime this year."

Everyone chuckled at this as they turned to Blaise, who just shrugged, "I'll probably just go to college."

"Muggle college?" Ginny questioned, and Blaise nodded, walking towards the living area and coming to sit beside Hermione, "Yep. I have an interest in muggle Bioscience. Genetics to be more specific."

"Isn't it fascinating?" Hermione beamed, as everyone seemed rather shocked by this declaration, Harry included, though he got over it fairly soon as he heard Ron grumble under his breath, "No it isn't."

* * *

 **Firstly, thanks for all the amazing reviews guys. They're food for the soul. All those who follow and favoriate - I owe you guys something. That's another chapter.**

 **So how was this one enjoyed the development? What do you think's gonna happen next?**


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